ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
IMPERFECT POEM
I have nothing to say to you now
and nowhere to go to say it
I say nothing to you in my living room
and it's not right so I stand on the porch
and say nothing but the cows are there
listening so it doesn't seem like nothing
so I drive to town and walk down Kirkwood
saying nothing and it all feels wrong and
I'm out of place out of any place to walk
or stand or sit or lie down in peace
and it's like a death or the loss
of some essential organ without which
I don't see or hear and I can't feel my legs
and therefore I don't believe in the ground
which leaves me floating legless headless
bodiless anywhere everywhere this
must be what it's like to exist
in a world of no objects only ideas
that cannot be altered
the Platonic Heaven
goddamn you Plato you know
nothing about what it takes to be
in my life and be happy it takes
real flawed objects and people who can
be taken to represent nothing higher
or better or more perfect than themselves